Stargate: Return of the Ancients, Season 1, Ep 3,4
by Aer-ki Jyr
Summary: Episodes, "Friends Long Forgotten" Part 1 and Part 2
1. Part 1 Chapter 1

The gateroom was quiet, with only a sole occupant attending the city's controls when a seldomly used panel lit up. The attendant, a former Air Force Lieutenant by the name of Devonshire, woke from her bleary-eyed stupor and turned toward the blinking yellow lights, unsure of what was happening.

She turned back to her laptop status display…only to belatedly remember that Stevenson had removed all such devices in the control room in favor of English translations input into the Ancient control terminals.

Devonshire cursed lightly then dragged up a schematical display of all functionality in the control room…a feature that she'd been relying on heavily since the trained control room staff had all returned back to Earth like good little minions.

She found that particular panel tagged as a long range communications node, and briefly reviewed the protocol for retrieval. A moment later she swung her chair across the smooth floor over to the still blinking console and brought up the message packet in hologram above her fingertips.

The message was written in Ancient, and she didn't know how to institute a translation program so she radioed for assistance. Teyla was the closest nearby and quickly arrived in the control tower.

"What have you found?" she asked as she strode up the stairs.

"I have a message, written in Ancient, but it didn't come over the subspace communications channels. It came through this console instead."

Teyla looked at both the console and the message floating above it in turn and frowned in confusion. "I don't think it's written in the language of the Ancestors."

Devonshire glanced back at the message. "Looks Ancient to me."

"No," Teyla said assuredly, looking at the small box corners and dots that made up the language's characters. "I've seen many forms of the Ancestors' language here in Atlantis…this is not one of them."

"Ok…then what do you want me to do about it?" Devonshire asked.

Teyla raised an eyebrow. "Find Stevenson."

* * *

Four hours later Stevenson returned from another of his mysterious journeys through the gate and was snagged by Devonshire before he could disappear elsewhere. She contacted Teyla over the intercom and the Athosian joined them within minutes.

"Can you read it?" Teyla asked when she arrived back in the control room.

Stevenson nodded without taking his eyes off the fairly long text.

Teyla waited patiently until he had finished. "What is it?"

"Response," Stevenson said, bypassing Teyla and going straight for the dialing chevrons.

"You sent a message?" Teyla guessed. "To whom, may I ask?"

Stevenson turned back to face her. "Nox."

Teyla shook her head unsure. "Who are the Nox?"

"Friends," Stevenson said as the wormhole activated and he headed down the stairs.

"Would you like some company?" Teyla offered.

Stevenson stopped and turned back to look at her. He smiled apologetically and shook his head no. He held up his index finger.

"One…only one?" Teyla asked.

Stevenson nodded.

Teyla sighed. "Well off with you then, and have fun. When you finally remember how to speak, you and I are going to have a _very_ long conversation."

Stevenson laughed and waved goodbye as he walked off into the event horizon and back into Avalona…or as the Humans called it, the Milky Way galaxy.

* * *

Stevenson stepped out of the gate into a clearing in the forest that covered the entirety of the Nox homeworld of Leth. He walked forward a few steps into the grassy field then waited patiently, glancing around at the verdant wilderness surrounding him.

A few minutes later one of the Nox walked out of the nearby trees and greeted him in the language of the Ancients.

"_Hello my friend_," Stevenson said in reply, not in his own language, but that of the Nox.

"_You know our language_?" the short, bristly haired humanoid asked.

"_I_ _do, among many other things. I am Alterra, once ally to your ancestors_."

"_Indeed, as your message stated. How is it then that you still live when your kind passed on so long ago_?"

Stevenson frowned. "_I explained as much in my message_."

"_Forgive me, I was not told. Perhaps you could indulge my curiosity_?"

Stevenson nodded slightly. "_My brethren died off from a plague long ago. Before the last of them succumbed they created a race of lesser lifeforms to populate the galaxy in their stead, ones that would not be susceptible to the plague due to their primitive physiology. My brothers also left behind a number of devices that would alter the descendants of this lesser race into Alterra once their physiology adapted to an adequate level. I am the result of contact with such a device_."

"_What world did you originate from then_?" the elder Nox asked.

"_Avalon_."

"_Known today by its inhabitants as Earth, yes_?"

"_Yes, it is_."

"_Then you are of the same people as the one called O'Neill that visited us before_?"

Stevenson smiled. "_I was. I am Alterra now_."

"_Interesting. So your transformation created a schism with your former people_?"

"_Out of necessity_," Stevenson explained. "_I cannot trust them_."

"_How sad_," the Nox said genuinely. "_Do you seek refuge among the Nox_?"

"_No, my friend. I wish to speak of resurrecting our former Alliance_."

The Nox tilted his head. "_For what purpose_?"

"_To undo that which time has ravaged_."

"_We have not heard from the Asgard nor the Furlings for much time. How fare they_?"

"_The Asgard are recently dead. The Furlings yet live_."

"_How did they die_?"

"_Their physical degeneration resulted in an illness that quickly spread amongst those that survived their war against the replicators. The remaining few destroyed their world to keep their knowledge and power from falling into the wrong hands_."

The Nox didn't say anything, merely let his head fall, shaking it in regretful disbelief.

"_I could not do anything to help them_," Stevenson continued. "_They died before I was transformed_."

The Nox sighed. "_Four there once were, bound as brothers in friendship, now only two remain, separate and isolated_."

"_Three now_," Stevenson corrected. "_Through me the Alterra have returned, and will rise once again_."

The Nox stood a bit straighter. "_My name is Ohper. What would you ask of the Nox, our long lost brother_?"

Stevenson smiled. He had been afraid that over the generations since the Alliance had crumbled, the present day Nox might not have been willing to accept him, yet he should have known better. Nox were Nox, regardless of the time that had passed.

"_First, I want you to know that I intend to honor our Alliance. If you ever have need of our assistance, do not hesitate to ask our help. I have been given the complete storehouse of Alterran knowledge during my transformation. I will gladly share any of it that may be of use to you_."

"_You are gracious in your offer, yet the Nox currently need for nothing. How might we be of help to you, young one_?"

Stevenson stiffened. "_I need to know what progress you have made with the disease that killed my people_."

Ohper stared at him for a long moment. "_That is not something that I can help you with. To obtain the answers you seek you must speak with the others_."

Stevenson slid his ornamented gauntlets off his forearms and set them gently on the ground. "_I will leave these here_."

Ohper smiled. "_You do indeed know the way of the Nox. Come with me_," he said, waving his hand through the air. Both he and Stevenson vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

Ohper and Stevenson reappeared inside one of the Nox's hidden floating cities, surrounded by a sea of organic looking crystal. The floor was smooth, polished clear/blue crystal that was illuminated from a source meters below. The walls and ceiling were of an erratic design, resembling a subterranean cavern with stubby, blunt crystals extruding from any and all angles.

The corridor ahead was not linear. It meandered to and fro, branching off in random directions. Had Stevenson not already possessed a schematic of the Nox city in memory, he would have been thoroughly bewildered.

"_You must speak with Olma_," Ohper said as he began to slowly navigate through the caverns. "_She will have the answer to your question, though it may not be the answer you seek. If memory serves, we were never able to find a cure to the plague_."

"_Did the Nox ever become infected?_" Stevenson asked.

Ohper looked up at him as they walked. "_Not to my knowledge_."

"_That is fortunate_," Stevenson said, relieved to hear that the Originals hadn't targeted the Nox for extinction with a similar plague. Apparently the Nox's insular ways had kept them from attracting the attention of the Ascended Empire despite the fact that the Nox were as physically advanced as the Alterra had been, though different in some significant and radical ways.

As they walked, Stevenson and Ohper passed several other Nox strolling through the city, all of which looked at Stevenson with sedate curiosity. He noted both their numbers and the 'dead spot' within their minds that he couldn't touch. He knew from the knowledge imparted to him by the repository that this wasn't a lack of development of his telepathic skills. This was a well known attribute of Nox physiology.

Though they resembled Alterrans, beneath the surface they were very alien, made all the more mysterious due to their unknown origins and unquantified abilities. Pleasant and friendly as they might be, they were still an enigma to the Alterrans and had every intension of remaining so.

Without preamble, Ohper stopped walking and looked to the wall on his right. The crystal nodes extruding from the wall retracted and curved within themselves, creating a narrow, crack-like doorway into an adjacent chamber…one overflowing with plants.

Ohper lead the way, with Stevenson trailing close behind him and having to duck in order to pass through the meter and a half tall opening. A step after he was inside, the fissure resealed itself just as another opened on the opposite side of the miniature forest.

A second Nox entered through the opening. Stevenson could feel the presence moving through the greenery towards them with a light, airy, yet slow gate. A moment later she pushed aside a cluster of vines and stepped into the light.

"_Hello. I am Olma. You are Stevenson, the Alterran that has risen from the ashes of the past to return to us_."

"_I am_," Stevenson said simply, nodding his head in respect. "_I would ask what you know of the plague, and if you have discovered the reason you are immune?_"

"_To your second question the answer is simple_," she said sweetly, almost smiling yet serious at the same time. "_It wasn't designed for us_."

Stevenson frowned. He knew that, but it could be dangerous if they did. Lyran had made it clear that any knowledge of the Originals' sabotage of corporeals would be viewed as a threat and therefore erased from existence. "_Designed_?" he asked innocently.

"_The plague that killed your people sought out a very specific range of cellular structures. Yours were most affected due to the complexity of your bodies. Had your physiology not been so advanced, the virus wouldn't have affected you as extremely as it did._"

"_That we knew_," Stevenson told her. "_It was why we retarded our gene pool and created a primitive race based on that genetic construct. However, we were under the impression that the plague attacked any advanced physiology_."

Olma slowly shook her head. "_In the beginning we thought the same, but when one of our own was exposed to the virus and did not fall ill, we sought other lines of research that revealed several Lynomal indexes that had to be matched in order for the virus to activate. The Nox lack two of the required twenty six_."

"_Luck was on your side_," Stevenson said, lying through his teeth. "_Have you learned anything new that might be of use in creating a counter-telmarse agent?_"

"_No_," Olma said, hanging her head slightly. "_The virus seems to be impervious to that type of attack_."

"_What of a nucleotide realignment code-locked inhibitor?_"

"_That attempt was also unsuccessful_."

"_Were you unable to enhance immuno-response?_"

Olma nodded, anticipating the question. "_We did make significant progress in that regard, but our insights came too late to help our research partner. Her illness had acquired too strong a grasp on her body. The upgrades proved inadequate for her, and came too late to aid the others_."

"_I thought you said you hadn't found a cure?_" Stevenson said, glancing at Ohper.

"_I would not call it a cure_," Olma cautioned. "_Several Alterrans were near to overcoming the virus without assistance. I believe that our augment would have given the strongest of you a fighting chance…but no guarantee of recovery_."

Stevenson smiled faintly. "_I understand. May I see the augmentation research?_"

Olma nodded and motioned with her hands for him to follow. The slightly shorter Nox led him through a waterfall of foliage and hidden paths before they arrived in a spacious alcove that the greenery did not infringe upon. As soon as Stevenson had cleared the vines from his vision he stopped dead in his tracks.

Imbedded into the wall of the alcove was an Alterran stasis chamber…an _occupied_ stasis chamber.

"_This is your research partner?_" Stevenson guessed.

Olma nodded. "_She is near death, and would not survive more than a few days if revived. It was her wish that she be preserved so that we would have a living specimen to experiment on should we find a cure. We have revived her six times, each when we thought we had found a way to save her. None were successful, and lessened what little time she had left_."

Stevenson walked forward and pressed his palm against the transparent cover of the stasis pod. "_Is this pod the only place you store the virus?_"

"_Have no fear… you are not in danger of contamination. She has not walked our halls in over a thousand generations_."

"_When was the last time you worked on the research?_" Stevenson asked, still staring at the Alterran woman's frozen face. He knew it was simply the afterimage of when she'd been put into stasis. Exterior light entering the pod could potentially damage the flesh over time, so the pod was shielded against such things. Never the less, an afterimage was included in the technology so the occupant could be 'viewed' during stasis.

"_I have familiarized myself with the research of others, but have myself made no new insights. We have a virtual model of the virus if you wish to continue the research? There would be no risk to you_."

"_I do not believe a simulation will be sufficient. Regrettably, I must have a live sample of the virus to work on. I searched our remaining research facilities for a sample, yet I found none. Either they used samples directly from their own bodies, or the facilities with the virus have long since been destroyed_."

Olma slowly shook her head. "_We did not retain a living sample of the virus outside of Aeria's body. The only way to obtain one is to revive her, which would put you at risk of infection and push her further toward the threshold_."

"_Now is not the time_," Stevenson agreed, "_but that time will soon come. When it does, I will need you to revive her for an instant. Just long enough to take a sample_."

"_I am not sure if that is wise_," Olma said hesitantly.

"_I have no wish to reintroduce the virus to the galaxy. It would affect the Human populations as well as myself. However, when we devise a cure it will have to be tested on a living sample of the virus before we can try it on…Aeria?_"

Olma nodded that he had got her name right. "_You sound optimistic?_"

"_I am_," he said confidently. "_I have been given the full knowledge of the Alterra, far more than any single Alterran ever possessed. I may not have the knack for medicine, but I have enough knowledge to recognize a diamond in the rough. Have you ever encountered a species known as the Goa'uld?_"

"_Not personally, but they are known to us_," Olma said quizzically. "_You believe their symbiotic nature could defeat the virus?_"

"_I don't believe. I know_," Stevenson declared. "_A few years ago, another of my sisters_," he said, gesturing to Aeria, "_was discovered on Avalon, frozen in the ice. Somehow she managed to survive millions of years in such a condition and revived when she was dug out. She was infected with the plague and spread it to the few Humans that rescued her. Before she died, she was able to cure them of the plague…save for one. She died before she could save him_."

Olma's eyes widened. "_Did the virus spread?_"

"_No, fortunately it was contained. The man that remained infected was offered the chance to live by a sympathetic offshoot of the Goa'uld known as the Tok'ra. Once joined, the Goa'uld was able to cure him of the plague_."

Olma's eyes wandered as she thought. "_Interesting. It would remain to be seen whether a Goa'uld could kill the virus within an Alterra, given that it attacks your physiology on a greater degree than that of less advanced races_."

"_Agreed, but that's not quite what I had in mind_," Stevenson said cryptically."_I'm more interested in learning how they do it, so that we might be able to develop an immunity to this plague and others like it_."

Olma considered that with a slight inclination of head. "_Then it seems we have an invitation to extend_."


	3. Chapter 3

"This is what I told you about," Teyla showed Sheppard as they arrived back in Atlantis's gate room from the planet where they were training their army, code-named 'Yavin' by Sheppard's order.

"Right on our doorstep, huh?" Sheppard remarked as he watched the blip on the long range sensors that Teyla had run off to warn him about. "Any idea where it's headed?"

"There are three populated systems in close proximity to us," Teyla said, pointing at the neighboring systems to the ice world they were currently inhabiting, also code-named by Sheppard as 'Hoth.'

"Do we know what the dot is yet?" Sheppard asked.

Teyla shook her head. "Not yet, but by the size I'd say we're dealing with at least one Hive ship, maybe more."

"You're sure it's Wraith?"

"The computer seems to think so," Teyla said resolutely. "We will know shortly if it is or not. The closer they get the more information the sensors can gather. We'll also know if they start periodically dropping out of hyperspace."

"But they haven't yet?" Sheppard asked.

"I only discovered the blip half an hour ago," Teyla admitted. "I had the computer running a sector by sector sweep looking for the Wraith, and this was the first hit I got. It just so happens that it was heading out way."

"What's their eta?"

"A week or two," Teyla said, unsure. "Depends how many stops they make."

"And you're sure they're coming our way?"

"Yes," Teyla reaffirmed. She pulled up a flight path diagram of the contact that she'd studied earlier. It was on a linear course that the computer predicted would come within a few light years of Atlantis.

"Any chance they're just passing through?" Sheppard asked.

"Possibly, but there isn't any system within the galaxy that lies on their current trajectory."

"Alright…what do you want to do about it?"

"We at least need to warn the planets in their path," Teyla pleaded. "I had hoped that Stevenson would have a way for us to do something more, but he hasn't returned to Atlantis in over a week."

"And we no longer have 304s to hit the Wraith with," Sheppard added. "If it was just darts or even a cruiser I'd take my chances in a puddle jumper, but we can't do anything against a Hive…unless we board it under cloak and drop off one of Stevenson's replicators."

Teyla's eyes widened. "Will that work? I thought he designed them differently."

"I didn't mean replicate and take over the ship," Sheppard corrected her, "I meant just drop the two SF's he's made inside and see how much havoc they can cause."

"As well as fire a few drones into the dart bay to slow the speed at which they are able to cull the planet."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Starting to sound like a plan…assuming they're actually going to hit one of the nearby systems."

"Time will tell," Teyla said calmly, "and hopefully Stevenson will return before then."

"Where the hell is he anyway?" Sheppard asked in frustration. What good was it to have an Ancient around if he was never around?

* * *

Stevenson waited in the research alcove while Olma went to the gate to welcome their guest. Despite the hopes he had for Goa'uld physiology, part of him wanted to find a solution the old fashioned way, and with the little bit of information that Lyran had given him about the virus he was making progress where the Nox had become stonewalled.

Fortunately they had made several key insights into the function of the virus in addition to the research done by the Alterrans. Aeria had brought all their findings with her to the Nox, so Stevenson had quite a head start compared to the Alterrans when they first became infected with the Ascended Empire's plague weapon.

Also, knowing that it was indeed a weapon helped narrow the focus of his study considerably. He assumed the delivery method was direct implantation by an ascended being, so all of the research done to reduce the likelihood of infection he simply discarded. To date, there was no way to stop an ascended being from messing with your body…but devising a method of shielding yourself against their interference was one of the items at the top of his permanent 'to do' list.

Stevenson pulled away from the neural interface when he sensed three presences approaching. He turned around and waited until Olma parted the thick vines and walked into view along with a blonde-haired female Tok'ra.

"_Hello_," he said in Goa'uld.

She bowed slightly. "_I am Anise of the Tok'ra. My host is Freya. How may we be of assistance?_"

Stevenson smiled slightly. Even though she had a snake in her head, she was none the less attractive. "_We believe that your healing powers may be the key to discovering a cure for the plague that wiped out the ones you refer to as Ancients_."

Anise tilted Freya's head in curiosity. "_Possibly, but what good would it do now. The Ancients are long since dead, are they not?_"

"_Not anymore_," Stevenson revealed. "_I am Alterra, the race that you call Ancients, along with her_," he said, pointing to Aeria's stasis pod, "_and a Jaffa who will become fully so within the year. There will be others soon enough, and we need to develop an immunity to the plague should we encounter it, or another like it, again_."

Freya's eyes blinked. "_Forgive me, but what you are saying is impossible. How can you be an Ancient?_"

"_He speaks the truth_," Olma said. "_The woman in stasis is one of the original Alterra. Stevenson has only recently become Alterra_." She turned to look at him. "_Yet you never mentioned a third?_"

"_A work in progress_," Stevenson assured her.

"_What proof can you offer?" _Anise demanded.

Stevenson smiled and lifted his hand, and as he did Freya's body lifted in tandem. "_I am not a fraud_," he said, gently putting her back down. "_But I do need your help_."

Anise gently straightened Freya's skirt. "_I would like to know more of who you are and what has transpired_."

Stevenson nodded. "_I can offer you such information in exchange for allowing us to study how your symbiot affects repairs to your body in general, but especially how you deal with disease_."

Freya's eyes narrowed. "_I can agree to that in principle, but I need to hear more before I submit myself to any examination_."

"_Very well_," Stevenson said, pulling out a chair for both him and Anise/Freya. "_I will tell you what you wish to know first…then you may decide whether or not you wish to assist us_."

Anise nodded and sat Freya down. "_Perhaps you can begin by explaining this plague that you say killed off the…Alterra?_"

Stevenson nodded, then smiled faintly at Olma.

She smiled in return then wandered off into the foliage. This was going to take a while and there was no need for her to hear the story twice. Through her telepathy she told him that she would return when needed.

"_Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away_," Stevenson began, suppressing a smirk while knowing full well that Anise/Freya wouldn't catch the irony. He belatedly realized that he'd been hanging around Sheppard too much.


	4. Chapter 4

"You said two weeks," Sheppard reminded Teyla. "It's been four."

Teyla slowly dipped her head in acquiescence. "I admit, I may have misread the display. It now seems that the Hive ship is still two weeks away."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that, or are you just making an educated guess?"

Teyla stood a little straighter. "Without your portable computer systems to translate, it is difficult to decipher the Ancestors' display screens. In the past I would have asked Stevenson for a translation, but since he's been away for over a month I…"

Sheppard waved a hand for her to stop. "I'm all for jumping on the blame Stevenson bandwagon, but if he doesn't show up soon we're going to have to undertake this op ourselves…and we need to know when the contact will get wherever it's going."

Teyla adjusted one of the displays in the control room for Sheppard to see. "Now that the target is closer, the computer has been able to refine its course projection."

The computer drew a new line through one of the dots on the map.

"Leos," Teyla said, pointing at one of Hoth's neighboring systems.

"You been there before?" Sheppard asked.

Teyla nodded. "Once. They are a primitive people…farmers, artisans, mill workers. Their villages number in the hundreds. I would guess there to have been several thousands of inhabitants. Even if they've been culled in recent years, there should be several thousand remaining…so long as the Wraith refrained from completely wiping them out the first time."

"That's assuming there was a first time," Sheppard pointed out.

"A planet with a population of that size would have been sure to be culled once all the Wraith awakened and found too little food to go around."

"You think they're coming back for seconds?"

Teyla shrugged. "I am merely speculating, Colonel."

Sheppard blew out a frustrated breath. "I'm tired of waiting. Forget Stevenson. Find Ronon and meet me in the jumper bay in half an hour. We're going to have a look for ourselves."

Teyla nodded, half smiling. "Full gear?"

"Full gear," Sheppard echoed as they walked out of the control room towards the nearest transporter.

* * *

"_I admit, I'm at a loss for words_," Anise said after Stevenson had finished telling her of the death of the Ancients, their plan for the Repository, and his subsequent transformation from Human to Alterran.

"_Will you help us?_" Stevenson asked.

"_If I do, will you help us in exchange?_" she countered.

Stevenson frowned. "_How so?_"

"_We are a dying people. The Tok'ra cannot reproduce without a queen, and we have been without one for many centuries. Our numbers grow fewer each year, and some of us have speculated that within a thousand years our kind will be relegated to the annals of history. If the knowledge the Ancient Repository gave you contains a way to save us from extinction, both I and the Tok'ra will assist you in any way that we can in exchange_."

Stevenson sat back in his seat for a moment as he considered her unusual request. There were many ways to work around infertility, but with the Tok'ra being comprised entirely of reproductiveless drones, theirs was a somewhat unusual situation.

"_Does your genome contain the dormant elements of a queen?_"

Anise considered his question carefully. "_No. The queens pass on the genetic characteristics that they choose to their offspring. Only one chosen to be a queen will be endowed with that genome_."

Stevenson chewed on his lip absentmindedly. "_Can you obtain a genetic sample from an existing Goa'uld queen?_"

Anise frowned in concentration. "_Doubtful. The few remaining Goa'uld queens have disappeared into the backwater of the galaxy for fear of being killed by their rebellious Jaffa. I don't believe we know the current whereabouts of any. We do, however, have the genetic profile of our progenitor on file_."

Stevenson considered that. "_Does it contain the complete genome?_"

"_I believe so_," Anise said hopefully.

Stevenson leaned forward and extended his hand. "_If you can give me a complete genome of a Goa'uld queen, I can fix your problem. Do we have a deal?_"

Anise extended Freya's fragile hand and grasped Stevenson's. "_We do_."

Stevenson didn't let go. "_However, if you use these new offspring to take so much as one unwilling host…I will hunt you down and take back that capability_."

Anise looked him straight in the eye. "_We are Tok'ra. We would never do such a thing_."

"_Even if it means you living in a water tank without hosts?_"

"_Even if it means our death_," she replied. "_We are not the Goa'uld_."

Stevenson released her hand. He had searched Freya's mind during their brief contact and was satisfied that she meant what she said. "_Then we have a deal_."

* * *

Ronon, Teyla, and Sheppard returned to Atlantis within eight hours, confirming both of Teyla's suspicions. Leos had indeed been culled a little over three years ago, and some eight thousand people had been sparred so as to reproduce the next generation of 'cattle' for the Wraith to feed upon.

"Has Stevenson returned yet?" Sheppard asked the control room via radio as he slowly moved the puddle jumper up out of the gateroom and into the jumper bay.

"Negative, Colonel," Lieutenant Devonshire reported. "The gate's been inactive since you left.

"Damn it," Sheppard whispered to himself as he gently landed the puddle jumper in the center of the bay. "Find Twiki and Bam Bam," Sheppard told Ronon, referring to the two security guard replicators that Stevenson had made, "and have them meet us in the conference room."

"You're really going to go through with this?" Ronon asked as they walked out the back of the jumper.

"It's either that or let our neighbors get culled by that hive ship," Sheppard argued.

"Stevenson may get back in time," Ronon offered.

"And if he does he's going to get a piece of my mind," Sheppard said angrily. "The least he could do is leave us an occasional message…or carry the Ancients' version of a cell phone."

"I'm sure whatever he's doing is important," Ronon said.

Sheppard turned and glared at him. "You're only defending him because he gave you that mini-drone launcher."

"Hey, it works," Ronon said half laughing.

"That's not the point," Sheppard argued.

"You're just sore that he didn't take you with him," Ronon jibbed, clapping Sheppard on the shoulder.

"Ow," Sheppard mouthed as Ronon jogged off ahead of him.

"I think there is some truth in what he says," Teyla added.

"Not you too," Sheppard complained.

She smiled then changed subjects. "Can we not give the replicators some type of explosive to take onboard the hive ship?"

"I thought of that," Sheppard said, back to business. "But I figure a couple drones launched into their dart bay will work just as well. If we had a nuke or two I'd reconsider, but the only ordinance of that magnitude that Earth sent us was kept on the 304s and not in Atlantis."

"Perhaps the other Replicator can make one for us in Stevenson's absence."

"I already asked," Sheppard admitted. "She said she wasn't programmed to give us access to anything larger than firearms without Stevenson's approval."

Teyla looked at him quizzically. "What did you ask for?"

"Some large explosives," he said, strait-faced.

"And?" Teyla prodded.

Sheppard cleared his throat, mangling the word as he spoke it. "Ligh…ts…aber."

"A what?" Teyla asked innocently.

"Never mind," Sheppard said quickly. "The point is the Replicators are our best bet to do some damage."

Teyla sensed he was avoiding something, but she decided to let it go. "How many refugees can we accommodate on Yavin?"

"As many as we can convince to evacuate," Sheppard said. "That Replicator bi…Beta said she can provide us with as many Ancient ration cubes as we need."

"What about shelters?"

"All the basics are covered," Sheppard said offhand. "You can ask her yourself if you like."

"I already have. Seems she isn't programmed to divulge even that much information to someone without the Ancient gene."

"Really," Sheppard said, raising an eyebrow. "I'll have to have a little chat with him about that too when he gets back."

"It's no matter," Teyla assured him, "as long as we get the supplies we need."

Sheppard stopped her in the hall. "It matters because you're a member of my team. If I can be trusted, then it's the same for you and Ronon."

"It seems he doesn't completely trust anyone," Teyla argued, inferring that it was a moot point.

"Well he's going to have to if we're all going to be living under the same roof."

"I would not press him too far," Teyla warned. "He seems to be under a great deal of stress."

"Don't worry about that…we have an understanding."

Teyla raised an eyebrow.

"It's a guy thing," Sheppard said as they started to walk. "You wouldn't understand."


	5. Chapter 5

Devonshire sat in the control room, half dozing off amidst the boredom that had now become commonplace in Atlantis. No longer were there teams coming and going through the gate. No longer were there periodic reports back to Earth. No longer were there other staff manning the controls to converse with. It was just her and the emptiness.

The Lieutenant woke with practiced reflexes when the gate activated with an incoming wormhole. Her hand slid over to the shield control without thinking and pressed the button that would activate the defensive barrier…and pressed it again, and again. By the fourth time she was fully awake and realized that there was a problem, now rhythmically tapping the controls in frustration.

She blew out a relieved breath when she saw Stevenson walk through the gate with a passenger in tow, literally. Devonshire saw her feet hovering above the ground and her body slack.

Stevenson stopped just inside the gate and lowered Freya's body until her feet gently touched the ground, but he didn't loosen his telekinetic grip until he swiped his fingertips across her forehead and woke her from the dreamy depths of unconsciousness.

"_Welcome to Atlantis_," he told her as she blinked herself awake.

"Stevenson!" Devonshire yelled to get his attention as she jogged down the stairs to meet him. "Where have you been!? There's a Hive ship on its way to cull one of the nearby systems. Teyla and Ronon took some of the troops to evacuate the planet while Sheppard took the Replicators and a puddle jumper to try and slow them down."

Before she could say anything more Stevenson ran up the stairs and into the control room faster than humanly possible. He was there within three seconds, staring at the long range sensors and the red icon tagged as a Wraith hive ship, mere minutes away from its destination.

"_Stay here!_" he yelled in Goa'uld at Anise before running off in a blur, deeper into the city.

* * *

Sheppard watched from the pilot's seat of his cloaked jumper as the Wraith Hive ship emerged from hyperspace in orbit over Leos. As soon as the pseudo-motion faded from the mammoth vessel, three pieces of it broke off and took up escort formation.

Sheppard toggled the puddle jumper's comm. "They're here. One Hive ship plus three cruisers," he said as he mentally brought up a targeting reticule over the main dart bay. "Get through the gate ASAP!"

"We're on our way now," Ronon said via his Ancient wrist communicator as he hurried another group of natives toward the gate. "But we're still half a klick from the gate."

"They're launching darts," Sheppard informed as he squeezed his eyes almost shut in concentration. "Hold on."

The jumper decloaked, spat out four yellow orbs, then recloaked and abruptly altered course toward the nose of the Hive ship.

The four drones twirled their way toward the dart bay as dozens of darts streamed out. The drones evaded the Wraith fighters and moved past them into the confines of the cavernous bay. They bored through the walls, looped around through nearby decks and emerged back inside the bay two, three, four times…hitting any and every vital or combustible system they could before their cutting energy expired and they detonated in one final act of destruction.

From outside Sheppard could see the bay light up from inside. The jumper's heads up display highlighted dart debris being blown out into space along with bits and pieces of the ship.

Without the computer enhancements it would have looked like the Wraith ship simply turned on and off a small light inside their hull. The Hive was so massive that even the destruction of the bay's interior made little change to the rest of the ship. The only noticeable difference was that the stream of darts flowing from the ship had stopped. The few dozen that had left prior to the blast split up, half moving down to the planet while the other half swarmed out in a defensive screen trying to find the source of the attack.

Sheppard flew the puddle jumper closer to the ship, gradually making his way to the dart bay while monitoring the damage from afar. The bay's internal temperature had spiked rapidly, but even now the cold vacuum of space was mitigating the excessive heat while the ship's biomatter reformed to cut off breaches in the interior hull that were bleeding off atmosphere thanks to the tunnels that the drones had bored through the decks.

The closer the jumper got the more data he received. Not all of the bay had been damaged, and many darts remained intact in their wall niches. It was the left side nearest the opening of the bay that had been slagged, with several huge chunks of the interior wall missing, exposing over ten decks and damaging all the surrounding dart pods.

Further back into the bay, where the renewing pocket of atmosphere was held intact by a secondary force field, more darts stirred to life. As Sheppard gingerly flew the jumper inside he could see solitary Wraith running to board the darts on the landing pads while still others boarded directly from the wall niches.

As much as Sheppard wanted to use his remaining drones to do some more redecorating, he needed stealth, not bravado, to cause the most damage he could to the Hive. "Twiki, Bam Bam…you're up."

The two replicator guards that had been sitting behind Sheppard in silence since they'd left Atlantis eight hours ago. Both nodded in unison, stood, and walked into the aft compartment of the jumper. Sheppard set the ship down on one of the landing pads under cloak and lowered the aft hatch remotely.

Twiki and Bam Bam stepped through the cloaking field and into view, then took off running toward the edge of the pad and a sealed entrance. Sheppard watched them make it off the pad, punch through the doors, and slither through the hole into the ship's corridors before he took off and headed back out of the bay and into space.

"Package delivered," Sheppard reported.

* * *

Ronon and Teyla heard Sheppard's words just before the whine of approaching darts caught their attention. They and their party were still 100 meters from the gate and running through an exposed grass field…with nowhere to hide.

"Keep going," Ronon said as he slid to a stop and unslung the large tube that he was carrying across his back.

Teyla didn't argue. Instead she sprinted on ahead of the villagers toward the DHD. When she got there she dialed Atlantis as quickly as she could…but the gate wouldn't accept her address. She tried once more, also unsuccessful, then switched to Yavin's address, cursing herself for not trying it first as well as wondering why Atlantis couldn't be dialed.

The wormhole connected just as the first of the villagers reached the DHD. She turned back to hurry them through, just in time to catch a glimpse of Ronon and the swarm of tiny lights, brighter than the overhead sun, launching out toward the incoming darts.

Stevenson had given Ronon the mini-drone launcher and the Ancient gene needed to use the weapon over a month ago, but this was the first time she'd seen him fire it. Just like their larger counterparts, the tiny lights twisted and arced their way toward the darts as they deployed their culling beams on a run that would cut across the path of the fleeing villagers.

The first two darts were swarmed by the tiny lights and shredded within seconds. The drones continued on to the next three darts as they went evasive, having to chase them high into the sky before detonating along with the Wraith craft. Two tiny lights survived and streaked toward four more incoming darts. They were all Ronon had left to mentally direct. The launcher was out of ammo.

"Ronon, come on!" Teyla yelled as the last third of the villagers arrived at the gate and began to flee through the puddle.

Ronon stood, but didn't run. He used the last two mini drones to chase, but not impact, the next few darts and succeeded in turning them away from their culling runs…all except one.

That one dove low and flew over Ronon's head, not bothering to activate its food-snatching beam. Instead it headed directly for the last few villagers and Teyla. The Leosians made it through in time, but Teyla resisted the urge to follow them, which would have meant abandoning Ronon. Instead she ducked down behind the DHD as the dart flew into the gate behind the villagers.

"Oh no," she whispered to herself before standing up to look for Ronon.

She ducked back behind the DHD just as a full sized drone dropped down from the sky and chased the dart through the wormhole.

* * *

In orbit, Sheppard tracked the movements of the Replicators within the Hive ship. He was rather pleased with their progress, not to mention his cleverness for thinking up this technique to deal with the Wraith. That was, until one of the signals was suddenly moved outside the ship.

Sheppard frowned and zeroed in on the signal. It was Bam Bam, and he was in space floating away from the Hive.

"What'd they do?" Sheppard asked. "Chuck him out an airlock?"

Before long Twiki followed on the other side of the ship.

"Well that just…wait a minute," Sheppard said, redirecting the jumper toward Bam Bam. "Two can play at this game. I'll just scoop them up and drop them off again. See how you like that!"

Two seconds later the Hive's main guns fired and Bam Bam's tracking signal vanished. Twiki's followed a moment later.

"Son of a…" Sheppard swore, getting cut off by the jumper's sensors as they detected another ship emerging from hyperspace.

The thing was the size of a Hive, and for a brief moment looked like a jelly fish until Sheppard realized that he was viewing it from the bottom up. He half jumped out of his seat when he realized what he was looking at. The mass of grey that he saw in front of him was the underside of Atlantis!

He saw several drones fired from the city immediately, a few dozen of which headed for the planet's surface to deal with the culling darts, Sheppard guessed. Six others stayed in orbit and targeted the four Wraith ships as they immediately began to make a run to hyperspace.

Three of the drones slithered under the Hive ship and took out its hyperdrive generators. The remaining three did the same on the escort cruisers. Once all of the Wraith ships were stranded in the system, Atlantis…did nothing.

"What are you waiting for?" Stevenson said to the air. "We've got more drones than that."

As if in reply to his question, the jumper's heads up display highlighted six points within Atlantis that were charging with power.

"What's he doing…" Sheppard started to ask when he belatedly remembered Rodney telling him that Atlantis had other weapons systems besides the drones…they just had never had enough power to use them before. "Well this should be good."

The Wraith ships, knowing that they were horribly outmatched, began to run away on sublight engines even as they opened fire on Atlantis. The faster cruisers quickly left the Hive behind, yet it was them that Stevenson targeted first.

On one of Atlantis's main 'piers' a thick column rose up a few dozen meters and locked into place. Crackles of orange lightning emanated from its halo and lept out towards the cruisers with only the slightest hesitation.

The energy crackled through the cruisers, destroying critical systems and creating small internal explosions, but the biomatter construction of the ships resisted combustive detonation and did not explode.

The three ships were partially shredded from the internal explosions, with trailing bits of hull spewing out from their decimated carcasses. Some Wraith onboard them may have survived, but the ships were as good as dead. All fire from them ceased the moment they were hit.

"Wow," was all Sheppard managed to utter before another location on Atlantis pinged with completion of its weapons charge. Through the jumper's viewport he could see Atlantis rotate around on its central axis and bring that highlighted point from the opposite side of the city around to the side nearest the Hive ship.

A yellow-green beam fired from the city and cut through the Hive's bow with ease. The beam didn't abate for several seconds…long enough to cut the ship in half.

Sheppard pumped his fist in silent triumph.

The Hive halves drifted apart, but not all of the weapons batteries had ceased fire. Multiple small explosions along the rift propelled the two halves further apart, but again the biomatter construction of the Wraith ships resisted detonation, and Sheppard saw the city rotate again to bring another side into range.

Another beam cut through the halves, further breaking up the ship. Four more such salvos were required before the jumper's readouts showed the Hive's systems to be completely dead. He wondered how many Wraith had survived the attack, and a slew of tiny lifeform indicators appeared on the HUD. He watched as they winked out, one or two at a time for a few minutes, then deactivated his cloak and contacted the city.

"I don't know if I should thank you or kick your ass, you arrogant, inconsiderate Ancient…but I have to say that was one hell of a show you just put on."

Stevenson's voice came back and said something pithy in Ancient. Sheppard frowned and a text translation appeared on his screen.

"Hey, I heard that!"

* * *

Back on the surface Teyla watched the other drones kill off the darts as Ronon ran toward her. He too had seen the drone pass through the gate.

Once he caught up to her they both ran through the event horizon and emerged into a nighttime version of Yavin. Several of Ronon's men were leading the villagers on the trail to the encampment while a small fire burned in the woods off to the right of the gate.

Teyla and Ronon exchanged glances. "I guess that takes care of that," Ronon said, pleased.

"Sheppard shouldn't have had that many drones," Teyla pointed out as realization dawned on her.

"What?" Ronon asked, seeing the expression on her face.

"I tried to dial Atlantis and couldn't," she explained. "Stevenson must have brought Atlantis to Leos and fired the drones from orbit."

"So they could be fighting right now?" Ronon asked.

Teyla walked over to the DHD and dialed Leos. After a brief conversation with Sheppard via comlink, she confirmed that the Wraith had been destroyed and Leos saved. Now all those villagers that they'd just evacuated had to be turned around and marched back through the gate.

A small price to pay for a world saved. Teyla had a smile on her face the rest of the day. She was really starting to like Stevenson.


	6. Part 2 Ch 1

After Rodney beamed aboard the _Odyssey_ he stowed his duffle in his pathetically small excuse for personal living space and made his way up to the bridge.

"Welcome aboard, Rodney," Carter greeted him from the command chair. "We're just about ready to leave. Did you get everything you asked for?"

"For whatever good it will do," McKay complained. "I still say this is a fool's errand. There's absolutely no way we're going to get past their shields."

Carter shrugged. "Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky."

McKay snorted. "Lucky for us means Sheppard and the others end up in a cell for the rest of their lives."

Carter gritted her teeth and looked at the ground. All trace of amusement left her face. "Look, I know this isn't going to be easy for you. It isn't for me either, but we have our orders."

"Hmmn, I'm sure the Nazis captured at the end of World War Two said the same thing at their pre-execution hearings."

Carter glared at him. "That's not fair," she said firmly. "This isn't the same situation at all."

McKay stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. "Don't you ever get the feeling that we might be on the wrong side in this fight…and that Sheppard is doing the right thing that the rest of us are just plain too scared to do?"

"Which is what?" Carter asked.

"Go against the I.O.A."

"We've fought against the I.O.A. before," Carter countered.

McKay crossed his arms over his chest. "Then why are they still the ones in charge?"

"What?"

"You heard me. If we've 'fought' them before why are they still giving the orders?"

"Because of the gate alliance treaty the US signed," she said patronizingly.

"So that gives them a 'get out of jail free card?'"

"What are you talking about, McKay?"

"For crying out loud, Carter, they just abandoned every last Human in Pegasus to end up as Wraith food. We've shot Goa'uld for doing less than that. _You've_ shot Goa'uld for doing less than that."

"What would you have me do then?" Carter asked, now getting miffed.

"Something," McKay emphasized. "I at least had to have my arm twisted to get me here. All the rest of you seem quite happy following whatever orders your superiors give you. Maybe that's the curse of being a soldier and it's civilians like me that are still free to comprehend the difference between right and wrong!"

Carter glanced to her right, noticing that the bridge crew was taking keen notice of everything they said. She grabbed McKay by the arm. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" he said as she dragged him out into the hall.

"Somewhere we can talk," she said as they angled toward a maintenance hatch. Carter opened it and slid through, pulling McKay in behind her. She wiggled past him and closed the hatch.

"You know, I'd make some flirtatious comment about the close quarters in here if I wasn't still pissed with your obtuseness," McKay said a few inches away from her face.

She jabbed him hard in the sternum with two outstretched fingers. "I don't care how much you don't like this mission, and I don't care how much you don't like how I'm dealing with it…but don't you _ever_ do that in front of the crew again."

"Your ego, that's what you're worried about?" McKay said, exasperated. "People are getting the life sucked out of their bodies by the Wraith and you're worried about your popularity? I can't believe you of all people would be that shallow."

"McKay…stop it _right_ now!"

"Or what? You'll leave me behind? Go ahead, it'd suit me just fine."

"Will you just shut up and think for a moment," Carter said forcefully. "If you and I don't go on this mission they'll just find someone else to do it. We can't stop it from happening, but we might be able to make it a little easier on Sheppard and his crew if we're the ones calling the shots."

"How?" McKay asked, full of sarcasm. "Are you willing to intentionally blow the mission?"

"No," Carter said emphatically. "But with our combined knowledge of the city we might be able to find a way around a confrontation. At the very least, Sheppard will talk to us, whereas he probably won't with anyone else."

"Forgive my stupidity, but Sheppard and the others still end up in prison regardless of who captures them…assuming of course we can capture them…which we can't."

"Not if they manage to escape through the gate while we're retaking the city," Carter offered slyly.

"So, you're willing to let Sheppard get away," McKay said sarcastically, "yet Pegasus still ends up doomed to be the Wraith's feeding ground while we sit blissfully unaware back in the Milky Way."

"I'll admit, it's not a perfect solution, but it's the best we can hope for given our current situation."

"Actually, I can think of one better," McKay countered. "Assuming of course that anyone back on Earth hasn't the gumption to topple the I.O.A., we can still hope that Sheppard and his Ancient can outwit the both of us."

Carter frowned at him. "We still have to give it our best effort."

"Why!" McKay all but yelled in the confined space the size of six or so phone booths. "Whatever happened to leave no man behind…stick up for the little guy…death before dishonor…and all that good guy mantra?"

"None of that has changed…"

"Oh yes it has," McKay said, his voice lowering. "Face it, Carter. Everything you and the SGC accomplished in the few years after the gate was opened is being usurped by men and women no less corrupt than the Goa'uld. The difference is, they don't have a snake in their head, and you're giving them a free pass because they're from Earth. If this was some other planet we were talking about you'd just shoot them and be done with it."

Carter tilted her head in annoyance. "That's not exactly an option we have here, Rodney."

"Why not," McKay said deadpan. "Bad guy here, bad guy there, what's the difference?"

"Because they were democratically elected," Carter countered. "If we want to remove them we have to use the system in place to do it."

"And in the mean time they get to rape and pillage to their hearts' content…all the while using _us_ to do their dirty work for them."

"Bottom line," Carter said, trying to get hold of the conversation again. "Are you going to help on this mission or not?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to," he said, turning away and opening the door. "I just didn't expect you to take their side. I thought you were better than that," he said as he walked out on her.

* * *

Once Atlantis had finished cleaning up the Wraith debris in orbit around Leos, Stevenson took the city on a galactic scavenger hunt before returning it to Hoth to resume the delayed construction of the Ancient outpost that would be tasked with overseeing planet-wide mining operations.

Since the construction had already been interrupted, Stevenson took the opportunity to pick up a few things on his shopping list. Teyla and Ronon chose to return to Yavin for the few days that Atlantis would be off the grid, but Sheppard steadfastly refused to let Stevenson go without him.

Atlantis's first stop was in the void between galaxies, where they picked up the first of the Pegasus gates that were floating uselessly in the broken gate bridge. Stevenson would need a new gate for Hoth, and figured it would be easier to repurpose existing gates before undertaking the tedious process of making new ones…which Atlantis still retained part of the production line for. He'd have to remake the rest from scratch and at present he had more pressing needs to attend to in his limited amount of time.

Sheppard agreed with his reasoning, despite the fact that he really wanted to see how the Ancients actually made stargates. However, that curiosity faded once Atlantis completed the recovery of the Pegasus gates and proceeded to their next destination, also in the void between galaxies.

Having reviewed the Atlantis Expedition's notes encoded within Atlantis's databases, Stevenson had discovered the existence of a derelict Lantean starship sitting helplessly between the galaxies. Once Stevenson located the _Tria_ and brought the hyperdrive-damaged ship inside the city's shield and secured it onto one of the docking piers, Sheppard was distracted enough exploring the ship not to notice Stevensons' third and final destination on their journey back to Hoth.

Another notation in the Expedition's notes was the location of a certain space gate and the unusual items that had been set adrift on the other side. Stevenson retrieved one of those items and destroyed the rest before returning Atlantis safely to Hoth.

When they arrived back over the ice planet, the partially constructed Ancient outpost was visible in a deep, crater-like depression in the thick surface ice. The crater had been hewn out of the ice in their absence by the nanites, and now allowed Atlantis to land on the bare ground around and on top of the outpost. All around the city white walls extended upward at a sharp angle, blocking out the horizon and all of the sky save for a 60 degree arc directly overhead.

Once the city was safely landed, Stevenson returned to the new lab that he had set up and continued to run Aniss/Freya through a battery of tests. Meanwhile, during his off hours, he started work on the item that he'd retrieved for Sheppard from its cold, orbital slumber.

* * *

"Cooled down a bit?" Carter asked a week later when she caught up with McKay in the mess hall as the ship traveled through hyperspace between galaxies. Up until then he'd been deliberately avoiding her.

"Not really," he said snobbishly, yet his tone was much milder this time around.

"I guess I can't really say I disagree with you," Carter said, sitting down across the table from him. She leaned forward on her elbows and partially hung her head as she talked. "I thought about what you said earlier…and I'm ashamed that there was some truth in your words."

"Oh?" McKay said, his irreverent tone gone.

"It's different when you're looking in from the outside. You see things much more clearly because you have no personal stake in what happens. But when you're an insider, and it's happening in your home, it's not so easy."

Carter folded her arms on top of the table nervously. "I know that's not an excuse, but from my point of view I don't really see that there's anything I can do to change the situation. The I.O.A. is still going to be running things at the end of the day."

"I think the bigger question isn't what will happen," McKay offered in one of his rare philosophical moments, "but what part will you play in it."

Carter bit her lip. "Meaning if we can't stop it, we should at least not add to it."

"Bingo," McKay whispered slowly.

Carter smiled disbelievingly. "A small piece of me wants to consider actually joining them…and that's the only piece that seems to be making sense."

"You really considering that?" McKay asked, amazed.

"No, of course not," she assured him. "But it would make things a lot simpler."

McKay sighed. "The rings," he said, suddenly switching topics. He didn't feel like fighting with her anymore.

"What about the rings?"

"The rings are our only chance of boarding Atlantis."

Carter frowned. "The rings won't connect to the transporters, the rooms are the wrong shape."

"But," McKay said, raising a finger for half-hearted emphasis, "the city has a set of standard rings at the base of the central tower."

"Really? How come you didn't say anything about that earlier?"

"It never came up. Besides, we used the Asgard beams for all city to ship transit. With that technology available the rings are outdated tech…except for their ability to transit through shields."

"You're saying we need to find a way to open Atlantis's shields to the rings' specific frequency rather than trying to breach the shields directly through sheer firepower."

"Exactly…even though it can't be done."

"Can't?" Carter asked, wondering why he'd brought it up.

"Can't," McKay reiterated. "The only way I agreed to come on this mission is when General O'Neill said we'd scrap the whole thing if it proved unfeasible. I figure the sooner I prove that true, the sooner we can go home."

"So why can't we find a way to puncture a frequency hole in Atlantis's shields?"

"Because I don't have a clue how to do it…and because the Ancient will probably figure a way to counter us even if we did."

"So why do you bring it up?" Carter asked, not giving up on the idea.

"Because I know of someone who might know how to do it."

Carter sat up a little straighter. "The Asgard."

"And we have their datacore onboard ship," McKay finished for her.

"Have you looked yet?"

McKay shook his head. "No. I haven't the stomach for it. I've done my part and given you the idea. Now I wash my hands of it and hope you fail miserably…no offense intended."

"None taken," Carter said as she considered his idea. He might be onto something.

"Oh, by the way. Congratulations on your promotion. I was too pissed off before to take notice."

"Thanks, but it's only a field promotion," Carter clarified. "I'm only a General for the duration of this mission."

"Why's that?" McKay asked with a 'that's stupid' look on his face.

"Chain of command gets kind of murky with three Colonels working side by side. Makes things easier when there's only one highest rank among the group."

"Regardless, it's well deserved."

Carter smiled. "I really appreciate that, Rodney."

"Comes with a nice pay raise, I'd imagine."

Carter blinked. "Actually, I never asked."

"Well when you find out let me know," McKay said as he stood up from the table with his tray. "I'd be interested to see what the price of betrayal is going for these days."

Carter blew out an annoyed breath as he walked her off again. "It's going to be a long mission," she whispered to herself as she headed off to the Asgard core room.


	7. Ch 2

Stevenson held a small, clear data crystal in his hand. He stared at it closely as the significance of the tiny piece of technology weighed on him. This was the endpoint of a million+ year quest…as well as a key component in the war to come against the Ascended Empire. On this crystal was the means to make himself immune to the plague that had destroyed the Alterra…the means to counter any similar bio-weapon created by the Originals and their minions…and it was the cure that would save the last of his original sisters, Aeria, from the doom that had befallen the rest of his kind.

It had taken him two weeks to isolate the means by which Goa'uld symbiots made alterations to their host bodies, another week to record and extrapolate the strategies they used to combat disease and instigate repair, and a final three weeks to create a white blood cell-like addition to the Alterran immune system that would function in a way similar to that of a symbiot.

He'd already ran over a billion virtual simulations and counter-corrected his designs more times than he cared to remember, but in the end, when he had come up with what he thought was a suitable countermeasure to the plague, he had transmitted his research to the Nox for a second opinion.

Stevenson had just received a reply a few moments ago. It was an augmented version of his bio-correction cell that had already been tested against a sample of the plague. Both his original version and the Nox-enhanced cell had both succeeding in destroying the virus in fresh tissue samples taken from Aeria.

Olma had wanted to test the cure on Aeria without delay, but Stevenson demanded one final test first. He sent a final message saying that he would return within the month to test the virus on himself. In the mean time he had other loose ends to tie up.

Stevenson pocketed the crystal, satisfied. He'd upload the DNA alterations into his own genome later. Right now he had a promise to keep to the Tok'ra.

* * *

The _Odyssey_ dropped out of hyperspace during the middle of the night shift, yet General Carter was wide awake…in the Asgard Core room.

"Bridge to General Carter," a slightly staticy voice blared over the room's intercom.

Or so it seemed to Carter's ears. She'd been studying Asgard shield schematics for the past five hours in complete silence. She stood up and walked over to the wall-mounted terminal.

"Carter here," she said meekly, her own voice sounding extraordinarily loud.

"We've just dropped out of hyperspace at the rendezvous point."

"Have the _Daedalus_ and _Apollo_ arrived yet?" she asked as her hearing returned to normal.

"No, sir."

"Stand by. I'm on my way up."

Carter reluctantly put her research on hold and left the core room on her way to the bridge. Rodney had guessed right…the Asgard did know quite a lot about shield frequencies and how to disrupt them. More than that, they also had a number of Ancient shield schematics on file that were proving extremely useful in her ongoing computer simulations.

The plan to use the rings to bypass Atlantis's shields was feasible, except that the _Odyssey_ didn't carry the type of weaponry that the Asgard typically had at their disposal, so it was going to be difficult to deliver the type of energy blast necessary to disrupt the city's shield in the desired fashion.

They were going to have to build an entirely new weapon for the task from scratch.

Carter arrived on the bridge just as the _Apollo_ dropped out of hyperspace alongside them. The _Daedalus_ was already floating off their port bow.

"Give me an open channel to both ships," she ordered.

"Channel open."

"This is General Carter. Report on ship status."

"Daedalus is in the green," Colonel Caldwell's voice came back.

"Same goes for the Apollo, General," Colonel Ellis answered. "We're ready to deploy on your order."

"Before we begin, let me emphasize one important fact. This is a retrieval mission. Whatever your personal feelings are toward Colonel Sheppard and the other Earth personnel that commandeered Atlantis, I will not tolerate any vigilante actions under my command. At this time your orders are to search for the city…nothing more. If you locate them, or if they happen to locate you, your orders are to report back to me and take no independent action. Are we clear?"

"We are," Caldwell said.

"Understood, General," Ellis agreed.

"Be advised, we are currently working on a plan to penetrate Atlantis's shields and get a team onboard to retake the city from within. We believe that we might, and I stress 'might,' be able to use the ring transporters to penetrate the shields if we can disrupt them on a specific frequency, thereby allowing the matter stream to pass through."

"We've seen Goa'uld ships transport cargo through shields this way," Carter continued, "and we may be able to do the same with Atlantis if we're successfully able to modify our weapons to create the proper disruption effect. If our efforts on the _Odyssey_ bear fruit, we'll have to regroup and make adjustments to the _Daedalus_ and _Apollo_ as well."

"What kind of adjustments?" Ellis asked.

Carter's voice hesitated for a moment. "We may have to add an entirely new weapons platform onto our ships."

"Isn't that something we should have done back at Earth?" Caldwell asked.

"We have the Asgard replication technology onboard the _Odyssey_ and a ZPM to power it. Earth doesn't have those kind of resources at their disposal…we do. Besides, we only just figured this out in the past few days."

"I know I don't have to remind you of this, General," Ellis cautioned, "but now that we've entered the Pegasus galaxy we're sitting in the middle of enemy territory. Without a safe haven like Atlantis to set down in, I'm not sure how comfortable I am having the _Apollo_ undergo construction within the reach of the Wraith."

"I understand your concerns, Colonel," Carter agreed. "If we have to make a jump back into intergalactic space to get some privacy we will. In the mean time we need to focus on finding Atlantis. To that end, the _Apollo_ is hereby dispatched to begin placement of the recon satellites. I believe the first destination on your list is Setida?"

"It is," Ellis confirmed.

"You have three weeks to work through as much of your list as you can. If you haven't completed your assignments by then, break off and return here for debrief. If you encounter the Wraith you have authorization to go weapons hot at your prerogative. Any Wraith kills will be appreciated, but that's not your primary mission."

"But it is a secondary objective?" Ellis asked.

"Unofficially, yes," Carter confirmed. "If you run across them, take the bastards out…just don't go looking for trouble."

"Will do, General. Permission to get underway?"

"Granted, _Apollo_," she confirmed. "Good hunting."

Outside the forward viewport the _Apollo_ rotated on her center axis and turned away from the group. A moment later she shot forward and entered hyperspace.

"Colonel Caldwell."

"Yes, General."

"Have your teams been fully briefed?"

"They have, though I was going to reemphasize a few points before I dropped them off."

"Make sure they keep a low profile when questioning the local inhabitants. Word may have got out that we intended to destroy Atlantis."

"They'll stay incognito," Caldwell assured her. "I'm not going to chance letting them leave the _Daedalus_ unless they're fully dressed in native garb. If there's any rumors floating around about Atlantis's whereabouts we'll track them down discretely."

"Err on the side of caution, Colonel. We don't want to tip our hand this early in the game."

"Understood. I assume we're operating under the same rules of engagement concerning the Wraith?" Caldwell asked.

"You are."

"And the _Odyssey_?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Carter answered dubiously.

"Are you sure you don't want the _Daedalus_ tagging along as backup?"

"We have a cloak," Carter countered, "_Daedalus_ doesn't. We'll be alright, Colonel. See you in three weeks."

"Good luck," Caldwell offered before the _Daedalus_ moved off and jumped into hyperspace.

"To us all," Carter whispered to herself. "Helm, set course for the nearest known Wraith outpost."

"Wraith?" the helmsman asked wide-eyed.

"If Sheppard was serious about taking the fight to the Wraith, then we might be able to find some evidence of their presence and use it as a starting point to backtrack to Atlantis."

"If you say so, General," the helmsman said, unconvinced, as he pulled up the _Odyssey_'s galactic map and chose the closest candidate system.

Carter leaned back in the command chair as they made the jump into hyperspace. She knew searching Wraith worlds was a long shot, but she wasn't going to say that in front of the crew. The truth was, the odds of finding Atlantis were nil if they were intent on hiding. Their only chance of finding them was if they were still interacting with the locals in some form or another. O'Neill had given her a 12-month deployment window to find Atlantis…if not, then they'd turn their back on the Pegasus galaxy once and for all and give up any hope of ever reclaiming the lost city of the Ancients.

* * *

Stevenson was waiting in a specially prepared lab when Anise walked through the door. "_You summoned me?_"

"_Yes. I need you to separate from your host_."

Freya's eyes glanced at the water tank behind Stevenson. "_We can't survive outside of a host for more than a short period of time_," she warned.

Stevenson raised an eyebrow. "_That may be what you want others to believe, but you forget…I've been scanning your physiology in depth and I know for a fact that's a lie. You may not want to live outside a host body, but you are physically able to for an indefinite amount of time_."

Anise glared at him, quite miffed. "_You doubt my word?_"

"_There is no doubt involved. I know for certain. Your transition back into an aquatic habitat may not be pleasant, but you are physiologically capable of making the transition. Regardless, I only need you to separate for a few days._"

Anise didn't look convinced. "_Why must I separate from my host?_"

"_Because I must have only one lifeform within the device at a time, otherwise it would alter the genome of the host as well_."

Anise frowned. "_What are your intentions?_"

"_I am going to transfer specific elements of the queen genome that you supplied me with into your own_."

Anise blinked in surprise. "_You're going to transform me into a queen?_"

"_Is that a problem?_"

Anise hesitated. "_I did not think such a thing was possible. I thought you were going to create some means for us to reproduce artificially_."

"_You pass on your genetic memory voluntarily, so cloning a new queen from the genome you provided would not produce a new Tok'ra, it would reproduce the genetic memory that the queen that bore your queen had given her. You would have another tyrant on your hands unless this clone chose to forsake her genetic legacy as your forbearer did, and there is no guarantee of that_."

"_Withholding the genetic memory_," Stevenson continued, "_would create an untainted symbiot with no memories whatsoever. For other species that would not be a problem, but since your kind rely on prerequisite knowledge from birth…cloning a new queen is not an option. In order to reproduce more Tok'ra, or at least those inclined to follow the ways of the Tok'ra, one of you must become a queen and pass the necessary genetic knowledge on to your offspring. If you do not want to be the one to do this, then you must supply me with another Tok'ra to transform_."

"_That will not be necessary_," Anise said quietly. "_I would be honored to bear this burden. Shall we begin now?_"

Stevenson raised his hand toward the meter-square tank sitting atop an ancient genome altering device. Anise walked over to the tank, lowered Freya's head to just above the surface of the water, then slithered out of her mouth into the tank.

Freya coughed against the pain initially, then regained her composure. Stevenson could sense her discomfort and walked over to her. "_Allow me_," he said, placing a hand gently against the side of her neck. He concentrated for a long moment, healing the fissure that Anise had torn in the back of Freya's throat upon exit, then moved his hand up to tousle her hair sympathetically. "_Better?_"

"_Thank you, yes. How did you know?_"

"_I could feel your pain, as well as your shock from being disconnected from Anise's mind_."

"_I imagine she must be feeling the same about now_," Freya wondered aloud.

Stevenson looked at the Tok'ra symbiot swimming gently around the tank. "_I don't know. My telepathy doesn't work on their species_."

"_But it works on me?_" Freya asked as a different range of emotions flowed through her.

Her thoughts caught Stevenson off guard and he nearly blushed. "_Be careful with your feelings. Being separated from Anise may be affecting you in ways you don't realize…and stay away from Sheppard for the next few days_," he added belatedly.

Freya gently grasped Stevenson's right hand in her left. "_Sheppard isn't the one I'm thinking about_."

Stevenson didn't take her hand, nor did he push it away. Instead he turned to face her directly and raised his left hand to her temple. "_There's no way for me to explain this in words. If you wish it, I will let you feel what I am feeling for an instant…but let me warn you, it will not be pleasant_."

Freya frowned. "_Do you not find me attractive?_"

Stevenson smiled. "_Quite attractive…but that's not my point. If you allow me to connect our minds you will understand_."

Freya nodded, and Stevenson extended his thoughts and feelings through his telepathic connection while screening out any sensitive information that he didn't trust the Tok'ra with.

Freya jerked backward in reaction, nearly doubling over as she clutched her body in pain. A moment later Stevenson's mental image dissipated and Freya was herself once again. "_How do you stand the pain?_" she asked in horror.

"_I have no choice_," he explained. "_It is a side affect of the ongoing transformation. My abilities are growing faster than naturally possible, and the resulting physiological flux is, needless to say, unpleasant_."

"_Is there no way I can ease your pain?_" Freya asked as she sympathetically placed a hand on his shoulder. From the outside she could detect no trace of the pain he hid so well, but the moment of insight he had shared with her wasn't something that she could easily forget.

"_None_," Stevenson said with a touch of genuine regret.

"_Might I at least stay by your side these next few days?_" she asked earnestly.

Stevenson laughed lightly. "_If for no other reason than to keep you away from Sheppard, yes._"

"_Is he dangerous?_" Freya asked.

"_Not in that way_," he said, sensing her concern. "_But the only reason he hasn't been fawning over you since the moment you entered the city was the presence of Anise within your body. Now that you're symbiot free, I suggest you keep your distance from him._"

Freya smiled and wrapped her arm around his. "_That won't be a problem_."

He silently relented and they walked a few paces arm in arm over to the control terminal where Stevenson began inputting commands with his left hand, augmented by a few telekinetic button presses, given that Freya had a good grip on his right arm that he was reluctant to relinquish.

Her eyes widened with wonder as she saw him operate some of the controls without touch, then her mind calmed to a researcher's placid curiosity as she observed him make the numerous alterations to Anise's genome that would transform the genderless symbiot into a fertile queen that would become the future progenitor of the Tok'ra.


	8. Ch 3

Stevenson took care to make sure that the genetic alterations to Anise's physiology developed according to design before he allowed her to return to Freya's body. He had been concerned about the growth of the new organs and Anise's ability to operate them, yet it seemed the genetic knowledge transferred from the queen's genome gave the symbiot all the prerequisite information she needed to operate her new bodily functions.

Anise formed a small larval sack within the tank, wanting to make sure that she was fully capable of asexual reproduction, then disconnected from it in order to blend with her host once again. When she did, Anise and Stevenson had a very long conversation about genetic technicalities that were far above Freya's understanding, but she did sense from Anise that all was well…and that the Tok'ra had indeed escaped from their inevitable doom.

Once every aspect of the alterations had been covered, Anise/Freya gated directly to the Tok'ra homeworld to begin repopulating their dwindling species. Stevenson gave them an Ancient communicator so that they could contact Atlantis independent of the gate network just in case something went wrong with the spawning cycle. The Pegasus galaxy was still off the grid as far as the Tok'ra were concerned, so he'd given them the intergalactic 'fax' machine technology that he'd used to contact the Nox, with strict instructions not to share it with others. Anise had agreed and they went their separate ways.

After cleaning up the lab, Stevenson oversaw the final construction of the planetary outpost beneath the city and initialized the five replicators tasked with expanding the mining infrastructure across the planet. They would personally construct several new factories around the outpost using the minimal resources already being drawn from the planet, then begin feeding the raw resources into those factories to begin the construction of the planet-wide infrastructure.

Meanwhile, he sent Sheppard on another cargo run to one of their auxiliary mining facilities to pick up the weekly shipments from the automated resource collectors. These machines had been constructed by the nanites that Sheppard and his team had deposited earlier and were collecting some of the rarer resources used in crystal and circuitry construction that weren't readily available on Hoth.

The Colonel hadn't started to complain about being a delivery boy yet, but Stevenson knew that conversation was coming and hoped to have a few additional hands by then to help with logistics. He didn't trust machines to handle oversight duties, and had only reluctantly assigned the five replicators to Hoth's outpost out of necessity. With the city sitting above the outpost he could intervene immediately if something went wrong, and the planet was uninhabited to begin with…but eventually he planned to replace them with an actual lifeform, and a particular one at that, if she was willing.

Stevenson returned to the cloning lab late in the night to make final preparations for the transfer of Elizabeth Weir's consciousness from her replicator body into a newly grown biological duplicate of her original organic form. It had taken a few weeks for Stevenson to hyper-grow the clone body from a blood sample he'd retrieved from the Tau'ri infirmary equipment that he'd cleared out of the medical wing and stowed away in one of Atlantis's warehouses.

He hadn't told Sheppard or anyone else what he was attempting to do, and had only recently reactivated Weir's replicator body from the power conservation mode that she'd been in when he'd retrieved her frozen form from space. The two of them had had a long conversation about the process he'd begun without her permission, but in the end Weir had been convinced and given him her blessing to continue. He found her in her Fran-style body hovering near the vertical cylinder that held her cloned body and a vast array of diagnostic gear.

"Is it time?" Weir guessed.

"_It is if you're ready_," he said in Ancient. He'd uploaded his language into her nanites so he wouldn't have to struggle with communication before or after Weir's transfer.

She breathed in shallowly, steadying herself. "Where do you want me?"

Stevenson pointed to the wall and a slab slid out from a hidden recess. "_Lie down and relax. This shouldn't take long_."

Weir walked over and gently sat down on the platform. "What will happen to this body afterwards?"

"_The nanites will become inert, and I'll recycle the raw components for use in other projects…I need your head in the receptacle_."

Weir glanced at the base of the platform where there was a circuitry ring recessed into the wall. "Are you sure this is going to work?" she asked again.

"_It will. This isn't our first time doing something like this_."

"I suppose not," she said, lying down and sliding her head into the ring. Several icons lit up around the ring once she was in position. Stevenson walked over to the clone body and affixed a similar ring across the forehead.

"_Ready?_" he asked, standing over a nearby control console.

Weir braced herself. "Do it."

Stevenson gently activated the controls and Weir's eyes closed on her replicator body. Four seconds later she blinked her eyes open on her biological body as Stevenson pulled off the transfer ring. "_Do you feel alright?_"

Weir glanced down at her flesh and blood hands. "That's it? I didn't feel a thing."

"_Do you have full control of your body, your mind, your emotions?_" Stevenson asked robotically.

Weir flexed her limbs and walked out of the cloning cylinder, stumbling a few steps before Stevenson caught her. "My body feels weak…exhausted even, but it feels like mine again. My mind is clear…no more code, and my emotions…are extremely grateful to you for saving me," she said, also nodding her thanks.

"_Take it slow until your body adapts…it's brand new after all. It has your presets, taken from the file of your most recent body scan, but developing complete strength will take some time_."

"I'll keep that in mind," Weir said, standing up straight without the need for assistance. She took a few more careful steps, getting her balance on her new/old legs.

"_Come with me to the commissary. We need to get some food into you._"

"I'm not sure if I'll make it all the way there just yet," she said, taking another wobbly step.

Stevenson waved a hand and suddenly Weir felt lighter. "What did you do?"

"_I'm carrying some of your weight telekinetically_," Stevenson explained. "_You should be able to walk easier now_."

Weir walked forward much easier this time, though she felt a bit like a marionette on strings. "Thank you. How long should this weakness last?"

"_Days at least, but your coordination should come back much quicker. The more active you are the faster your progress will be_."

"Alright then. Let's get walking. What part of the city are we in anyway?" she asked as they left the cloning lab walking side by side, with Stevenson telekinetically aiding her the entire way to the commissary, though by the time they got there Weir had regained enough strength that Stevenson was able to release some of his grip on her torso.

* * *

"When was the last time Stevenson wanted to eat lunch with us?" Sheppard asked Teyla and Ronon on their way to the commissary.

"Never," Ronon said from behind him.

"Exactly," Sheppard said emphatically. "Something's up."

"With his inability to speak to us, I can understand his reluctance to socialize," Teyla argued.

"So what, you think he's finally relearned English and wants to sit down and gossip?" Sheppard said sarcastically.

"Why don't we just wait and see," Ronon answered as they approached the refurbished commissary. "We're almost there."

"I'm just saying…be ready for a surprise," Sheppard reiterated. "He's up to something."

The three of them rounded the corner and walked into the nearly empty commissary. Only three of the Ancient style tables were occupied, two of which contained Athosians. At the other table sat Stevenson and a woman with her back to the door. He waved the trio over to them without bothering to even look in their direction as he continued his current conversation.

"What's this about?" Sheppard asked as they walked up to the table.

"He owed you one," Weir's voice said just before she turned around to face him. "That and we don't leave people behind."

"Elizabeth?" Teyla blurted out first. Sheppard couldn't find his voice for a moment.

"What's going on here," he asked wide-eyed.

"It's alright, John," Weir said placatingly. "It's really me."

"How is that possible," Sheppard asked, not allowing himself to believe it. "You should be a replicator."

"I was, but Ryan was kind enough to transfer me into a copy of my original body."

"Ryan? Oh, Stevenson. I keep forgetting you have a first name. So was it really you we stranded on the other side of the gate?"

Weir nodded, unpleasant memories flooding to mind. "It was. He retrieved me from space a few weeks ago."

Sheppard glared at Stevenson. "And you didn't bother to tell me!"

Stevenson smiled. "Surprise."

"That it is," Teyla said, genuinely enthused, "and a most welcome one at that." She walked forward and hugged Weir. "We've missed you, Elizabeth."

"Good to have you back," Ronon said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Sheppard was at a loss for words. "What's this about you owing me one?"

"I…left…too long…" he began to explain in broken English before giving up and turning to Weir.

"_Tell him that I made the mistake of leaving him without a babysitter when I should have known that he'd get himself into some kind of trouble in my absence_."

Weir smiled gently and translated for Sheppard. "He says he's sorry for leaving you alone and how things almost turned out badly with the whole Hive ship thing."

Stevenson raised an eyebrow at Weir, but offered no other complaint of her generous translation.

"Wait a minute. You can understand him?" Sheppard asked.

"Yes," Weir said, enjoying the moment of superiority before explaining. "He downloaded the original Ancient language into my nanites before the transfer. The language copied along with my consciousness into this body."

"Lucky you," Sheppard said sarcastically, looking at Stevenson. "I don't suppose you could do something similar for us?"

"No need," Stevenson said. "Will not be long…learning…"

"Yeah, well, keep practicing, you'll get it someday," Sheppard mocked.

"Easy John," Weir cautioned. "Have a seat. Teyla, Ronon," she said, motioning to the other floating chairs magnetically latched to the table. They were by far the most comfortable seats Weir had ever sat in.

"Now, where's Rodney?" she asked once they'd all sat down.

Sheppard grimaced. "Back on Earth, along with most of the Atlantis expedition."

Weir leaned forward. "Ryan filled me in on the basics, but I want to know more. Tell me everything."

Sheppard leaned back in his chair, bobbing up and down slightly as it adjusted to his weight. "That could take quite a while."

Weir smiled. "It seems I have plenty of time."

Sheppard reached forward and grasped her slight hand. "I…we…thought we'd lost you. It's good to have you back, Elizabeth."

"It's good to be back," she said, squeezing his hand in return. "Now talk. I need to get caught up on what's happening."

Sheppard released her hand and cleared his voice. "Well, it all started with that weasel Woolsey…"


	9. Ch 4

"What's really going on?" Elisabeth asked Stevenson as he guided her on a tour of the new outpost.

"_Meaning what?_" he asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and turning to face her.

"I've had some time to think over the past few days, and something about your story doesn't quite add up. First of all, why are you having Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard train villagers for combat when you can build an army of replicators far more suited to the task?"

"_Machines are limited_," Stevenson explained. "_They can't be trusted to think. In combat you have to adapt to the unexpected…machines can only do what they're programmed to do_."

"Then why were the replicators such threat, both here in Pegasus and the block-like ones back in the Milky Way?"

"_Because they were programmed to incorporate new technologies into their own. They couldn't create something new. They could only copy what others had made and use it against them, often with more efficiency than the creators had. Your speculative notes in the database about the replicators taking the form of their creators as a homage are incorrect. They copied Lantean physiology because it was the most advanced form available to them. This is the same reason the replicators continued to copy our technology rather than create their own or improve on ours_."

"So the Ancient city on Asuras was a copy of Atlantis because that was the best design they had available?"

"_Correct_."

"Why do you keep referring to the Lanteans as a separate entity from yourself? You're the same bloodline, are you not?"

"_No, we're not_," Stevenson said with some scorn. "_The plague killed off my kind…the Alterra…completely. There were no survivors, and no one escaped infection. However, the disease did not kill us instantaneously, which gave my brothers and sisters time to construct the repository of knowledge and other projects. One of those projects was to take Atlantis into an untouched galaxy and seed it with primitive Human life as we did in Avalona, but with one ambitious difference_."

"Wait," Elisabeth said, holding up her hand for Stevenson to stop. "How did you reseed life, exactly? And why seed primitive Humans across the galaxies? Why not recreate your own kind?"

"_The nature of the plague_," Stevenson answered simply before moving onto complexities. "_The more advanced the physiology the more deadly the disease became. Only by going back and creating a very primitive version of our current physiology did we have a chance of repopulating Avalona_. _We used the device built on Dakara to reorganize matter on the other side of the gates into protoform cocoons that would grow into an adult form, thus creating a large-numbered species within a few months. We placed food dispensers and basic shelters onto those worlds to aid them, but they were so primitive we couldn't communicate and were forced to simply let them be_."

"Avalona? That's the Milky Way, right?" she asked speculatively.

Stevenson nodded. "_And Avalon is Earth…that should have been included in your language upload_."

"I thought so," Elisabeth confessed. "I just wanted to be sure. So the disease attacked your advanced physiology?"

"_In order for the galaxy to be repopulated, it would take many millions of years for natural adaptation to advance the seeded species back to a similar level. We knew that there would be some inevitable deviations in the process, so the repository was created with the ability to alter the individual's physiology to match Alterran norms. In the time it took to undergo this long evolutionary process, we had hoped that the plague would have been eradicated from the galaxies long before the seed species would have advanced to a point where they would be susceptible to the disease_."

"Why didn't you just recreate your own kind in a secure location?"

"_Because we never isolated the source of the plague. It infected all of us in a relatively short period of time…too short for it to have been spread person to person. Without knowing the method of infection we had no idea what a 'secure' location might be. None the less, we took a risk with Pegasus. We seeded the galaxy as we had done with Avalona, but we also recreated our form is a lesser state, but by no means as primitive as the seed species. The Lanteans, as they were called, were originally on the same physiological level as yourself and were tasked with taking over Atlantis and caring for the seed species when the last of us were gone…if they managed to avoid or survive infection_."

"So you're saying that the Pegasus Ancients, the Lanteans, were another restarted primitive form of the Alterrans?"

Stevenson nodded while the ramifications cycled through Elisabeth's mind.

"The Ascension machine," she said, still thinking fast. "They were trying to catch up physiologically to the Alterra so they could also ascend."

"_Though the database is unclear, I believe the Lanteans first observed ascension when some of their Alterran creators here in Atlantis ascended as the plague killed them off, and ever after that point their society focused on internal development toward attaining ascension and neglected outside events_."

"Such as the emergence of the Wraith?" Elisabeth guessed.

"_Indeed_."

Elisabeth squinted slyly. "Is there more to the database than I've seen?"

Stevenson smiled and nodded. "_There are restricted files that the Lantean leaders didn't want made public. They require an access code before the database will even acknowledge their existence_."

Elisabeth raised an eyebrow. "How would the repository have that code if it was made before the Lanteans developed?"

"_It didn't. But it did give me enough technical knowledge to hack into the system. The lack of Asuras and the replicator experiment made me suspect there was more…and there was_."

"Can I access those files?"

"_No, they're still code locked_."

"And you don't trust me enough to give me the code?"

"_I don't know you_," Stevenson said frankly.

"Yet you're offering me command of this planet…little that there is now."

"_I'm willing to trust you to a point…anything beyond that you'll have to earn_."

"Does that include your real plans for Atlantis?" Elisabeth challenged.

"_Speak plainly_," Stevenson urged. "_What's on your mind?_"

"You're hiding something. There's more going on here than it appears."

Stevenson chewed his lip for a moment. She was right, of course, but he couldn't tell her that. "_Alright, I'll throw you a bone…on the condition that you accept this position and you keep this information to yourself, I don't want Sheppard and the others to get distracted_."

"Agreed," Elisabeth said carefully.

"_I'm grooming Sheppard and the others into the guardians of this galaxy. Once we defeat the Wraith they'll stay here in Atlantis while I move on to other threats. I need them, you, and the people of the Pegasus galaxy to learn to be able to defend yourselves. You were right, if my only concern was destroying the Wraith I could use other means to do so, but there is much more at stake that I have to consider_."

"Such as?"

"_Our realm of influence used to extend over 22 galaxies. In our absence, those territories have grown wild and dangerous. Eventually I'm going to reassert control over them, and in order to do so I'm going to have to defeat many enemies more powerful than the Wraith. Cleaning out Pegasus is, not to put too light a point on it, merely a warm-up for the real war to come_."

"Ambitious doesn't quite cover it," Elisabeth said half-joking. "Are you doing this by personal choice or because you were instructed to by the repository?"

Stevenson glanced down at the polished grey floor. "_I'm to reclaim what we once had and set right all that has gone wrong in our absence. That includes dealing with the Wraith…though technically that was the Lanteans' fault_."

"You don't like them much, do you?" Elisabeth guessed.

"_Instead of fighting they turned tail and ran, abandoning the seed species to the Wraith and leaving me quite a mess to clean up…with the same tools they had at their disposal, mind you_."

"I don't know if I like being referred to as a 'seed species.'"

"_Nothing personal_," Stevenson offered. "_Just a description_."

"Can we stick with Human, if you don't mind?"

"_If you wish_."

"Thank you. Human doesn't sound as much like a science experiment. By the way," Elisabeth said, suddenly remembering something, "this outpost is powered by a ZPM, right?"

"_Potentia_," Stevenson corrected her. Now that she spoke Ancient he wasn't going to humor their erroneous terms quite so much.

"Potentia then," Elisabeth echoed. "Exactly how easy is it for you to build them? Sheppard told me you took him to the factory that made the ones powering Atlantis."

"_The Potentia are merely batteries that hold their energy in a self-contained region of subspace. Their construction is delicate, but ultimately not time consuming. The hard part is collecting the energy to charge them with. The Potentia factories are all located near abundant energy sources. The one Sheppard saw is one of only two that still exist, and the only one currently operational. It sits near a quasar and absorbs energy redirected to it from twelve satellites in orbit around the quasar. Its capacitors can hold sufficient charge for 37 Potentia when full, though they rarely are. Only because they've been sitting unused for millions of years are they now full_."

"So you can make 34 more Potentia, then that's it for a while?"

"_35, actually. There was one in storage in the factory that I didn't have to charge. The capacitors are recharging to replace the energy lost, but it will take over a year to replenish a single Potentia charge_."

"I guess we're set for the time being then, but eventually we'll need to make more Potentia factories?"

"_Which is why I need the natural resources from Hoth_."

Elisabeth smiled. "You never should have let Sheppard name it that."

"_I know_," he admitted. "_So, we have a deal then? You can ring back up to the city at will or you can keep your quarters here if you like_."

"Seeing as how my tenure with the Atlantis expedition has been cancelled and that fact that I'm next to useless on the battlefield…I'll gladly accept the position and anything I can do to help defeat the Wraith and protect this galaxy."

Stevenson extended his hand. Elisabeth took it and felt a slight tingle as he held her in his grip for a few seconds. "That felt a little strange. Did you do something?"

"_If you're going to run the planetary operation and command this outpost then you're going to need the activation gene. I just gave it to you_."


	10. Ch 5

"_This is most unwise_," Olma cautioned as she retrieved part of the plague sample from stasis.

"_It must be done_," Stevenson said, cradling the regenerator in his lap. The small cube was a potent healing device developed by the Alterra to augment their already advanced healing ability…so much so that it was dangerous to less advanced forms, such as the seed species, including the Lanteans. Today he had brought it with him as backup, just in case he needed some biological help in fighting off the plague virus that he was about to infect himself with.

"_We will quarantine this room and await the outcome of your test," _Olma said, looking up into his eyes with concern._ "We don't want to inadvertently rerelease the virus back into the galaxy_."

"_I'll be fine_," he assured her. "_Aeria will be the difficult one to heal_."

Olma handed him a small injector vile. "_I will monitor your progress from another chamber. If you require our assistance don't hesitate to ask_."

"_Thank you_," Stevenson said kindly, "_but this is one fight that I need to win on my own. If my body can't quickly squash a small infection, then there is little hope to save her_."

Olma glanced along his eye line at the frozen image of the Ancient researcher. "_She seemed hopeful, given what little information I was able to convey to her. If this cure does indeed prove to be successful, I wish to sit down and have a proper discussion with her. Our ancestors held her in great esteem_."

"_You'll have to get in line_," he said sarcastically. "_We have much to discuss_."

Olma smiled. "_I_ _suppose you do. Good luck, my friend_."

Stevenson nodded to her as she left, conveying his gratitude for her help with a brief telepathic burst. After she was clear of the room he injected himself with the virus and laid the empty vile on the side table next to his chair. He still held the regenerator in his lap, yet it wasn't active. He needed to let his new Goa'uld inspired bio-correction cells do their thing while the Nox medical sensors tracked their progress, gathering data that might be needed for an alteration of the cell design if the refined prototype failed.

No more than six minutes later a green sterilization field swept across the room, followed promptly by Olma's return. Her wide smile told Stevenson everything he needed to know.

"_Amazing_," she said, grasping his hand and examining it. "_The new cells worked flawlessly. Their response time was twice as fast as predicted_."

Stevenson frowned. "_What are you looking for?_"

"_A small portion of the virus tried to flee your body just prior to its destruction. I am searching for toxic residue within your skin cells_."

Stevenson frowned. "_It moved outward by design_."

"_Yes, it was shocking. It appears to be a reaction to a failed infection. Our research notes never hinted that the virus held such a capability_."

"_Must be a defense mechanism_," Stevenson said, realizing the full truth. The Ascended Empire had engineered the plague to flee the body upon a defeated replication attempt in order to spread the plague to others before it was completely destroyed by the host body.

"_This is a most virulent disease_," Olma commented, continuing to examine his hand where the injection had taken place. "_It appears to have deposited some type of inert particle on the surface of your body._ _The sterilization field didn't register it as a threat. I'm removing it now_," she said, pulling out a small device from a hidden pocket. When finished, she took the sample and placed it in an examination slot on one of the Ancient diagnostic machines.

"_It mutated into a transit spore_," Stevenson commented as they reviewed the scan data. "_And a non-active spore at that_."

Olma shook her head disbelievingly. "_I don't know how it obtained this ability, but it appears to be a deliberate evasion of the immunization process. If it can't quickly get a foothold in your tissues, it retreats before your immune system can adapt to counter it. This way a preventative cure can never be devised for an uninfected individual. Those that prove strong enough to survive the plague never become immune to it because the virus doesn't remain in the body long enough for that to happen…this is incredibly unlikely for a naturally occurring disease. There is a possibility this plague was deliberately engineered to behave in this fashion_."

"_That doesn't matter so long as the new cell can defeat it_," Stevenson said, trying to deflect the conversation away from that line of thought. Who knew how many ascended beings could be eavesdropping on their conversation at this very moment. "_Revive Aeria_."

Olma visibly stirred. "_Should we not study your success in more detail before we attempt to heal her?_"

"_She's waited long enough_," he said, activating the regenerator. Small streams of bright white light emanated from tiny cracks in its ornate surface. "_I'll use this to keep her alive long enough for her body to produce the new cells_."

"_As you wish_," she said reluctantly. "_But I'm staying with you this time. You may need my help to keep her alive_."

"_Alright, but have someone else monitoring her progress from afar. If this goes badly we need as much of a head start as possible to return her to the stasis pod_."

"_Leora is there. Are you ready?_" she asked, standing by the Ancient stasis pod.

Stevenson touched the device and the brightness of the light doubled. "_Do it_."

Olma deactivated the stasis field and Stevenson telekinetically caught Aeria's body as she collapsed to the floor. He pulled her over to him through the air and placed her hand on the regenerator.

_Focus sister_, he said to her telepathically as he injected her with the genome update, _you have little time left. Draw strength from the device and me while the cure takes effect._

He felt her mind coalesce around his words and the regenerator responded to her mental command, sustaining her cells against the debilitating affect of the festering disease encompassing every facet of her body.

_Who are you?_ she asked wordlessly.

_The last of your brothers_, he said, using his own healing abilities to further sustain her quivering form. _I am the product of the Repository of Knowledge_.

_How much time has passed?_

_I do not know for certain, but at least four million years._

Aeria blinked her eyes open and looked up at him, her hand still on the regenerator. _Tell me what has happened. Tell me of this cure you have found._

_Your body is producing a specially engineered cell patterned after a parasitical lifeform currently native to Avalona that has impressive healing abilities. It succeeded in destroying the virus in the tissue sample taken from you earlier, and was equally successful in curing the virus within me._

_You were infected?_

_Deliberately so, just a few minutes ago. _

_That was foolhardy. You never should have taken the risk. The whole point of the Repository was to circumvent the plague. You jeopardized everything._

_I needed to be sure it would work before we revived you again. And it did, magnificently, yet my condition was infantile compared to yours. We must take care or we may lose you yet…and after all the years you've survived it would be a shame to surrender to defeat now._

_Indeed…hold me up. I am beginning to feel faint_.

Stevenson cradled her head in the crevice between his shoulder and neck, making sure to keep her hand squarely on the regenerator. He wrapped her up in a tight embrace and held her to him over the next four hours. The conversed in silence, mind to mind, where not even Olma could overhear them as Aeria's body began to create more and more of the bio-correction cells and send them into battle against the invasive plague.

Aeria's body suffered from the toxic aftermath of the tiny battles. She drew heavily on the regenerator to keep her body functioning while the internal war continued to escalate. Through it all, Aeria kept her mind linked to Stevenson's, using his consciousness as an anchor and a diversion from the internal strains. They talked long and in depth about many things, save for Stevenson's true mission, which she had no knowledge of and he had no choice but to avoid for fear of exposing himself.

Never the less, Aeria and Stevenson grew close very fast, with Stevenson the better for it. Ever since his transformation he had felt empty and alone, longing for something that he had never experienced before, and did not completely understand. Now, holding her in his arms and sensing her mind he realized that which he'd been missing…brotherhood.

They were the last two Alterrans in the universe, save for those that had ascended, and he could feel the bond between them, as palatable as the gravitational pull beneath him. It meant a great deal more to be Alterran than it did to be Human, and the connections between individuals was much more intense. They didn't operate with a hive mind like the Wraith did, but the bonds between them were equally intense…without compromising their individuality in the process.

With only having known Aeria for a few brief hours, Stevenson was more fully committed to helping and protecting her than anyone he had known on Earth, his former family included. He was Alterra now, and so was she, and what that truly meant defied description.

After half a day of effort, the tide had turned in the internal war and Aeria's bio-chemistry began to creep back toward Alterran norms. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but she was passed the worse of it, and making small, yet steady progress.

Suddenly her mind slipped from Stevenson's.

_What's wrong?_ he asked.

_The others…they're calling to me. _

…_no, no don't do it. Don't listen to them…_Stevenson said panickly.

_Thank you for saving me, brother. They couldn't act until…you…goodbye…_

"_No!_" Stevenson yelled, jolting Olma out of her speculative daze.

"_What's wrong?_" she asked as Aeria began to glow. Her body transformed into the pure energy of the ascended within the circle of Stevenson's arms, then rose upward, disappearing from this dimension and leaving Stevenson clutching little more than her clothing.

Anger welled up inside him as he stood and yelled violently. "_You back-stabbing traitors! It was working…it was working! I was going to save her! What happened to your precious non-interference!?_"

Every muscle in Stevenson's body was tense, flexing against his own strength in frustration. He slowly dropped to his knees, looking as if he was going to burst a blood vessel.

"_You bastards_," he whispered vehemently. "_You hypocritical bastards…I needed her_," he said, pounding the floor with both fists. He threw his head back, looking up at the ceiling in futility.

"_I needed her!_" he screamed.


End file.
